


Old Magic

by diadelphous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 01:18:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diadelphous/pseuds/diadelphous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rowena learns that magic, like love, doesn't have to be logical.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Magic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [holyfant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/holyfant/gifts).



\--1--

Rowena drew her wand across the model of the castle. It glowed faintly from the magic, a pale beacon in the middle of her cottage. _Hogwarts_. The name had come to her in a dream, the way all important things do.

"Aenigmus," Rowena said, and the model brightened and began to move. No, not move, but _shift_ , the stairs grinding and sliding, gliding apart and locking back together again. A puzzle of hallways. Rowena loved puzzles; the only thing better than solving a puzzle was creating one.

Abruptly, the model's central stairs collided together in a puff of glittering dust.

"Hecate's wand!" Rowena spat. She waved her wand over the ruined model and watched her spell run in reverse, the stairs moving backwards, the dust flowing like an hourglass back into place.

"A good thing Godric wouldn't let you experiment on the castle itself, then."

Rowena jumped a little in surprise. From anyone else, such a comment would have rankled, but it came from Helga, whose voice was always twinkling and familiar and kind.

"Godric didn't make me do anything. I agreed with his suggestion. I'd always intended to work out the charms on a model first."

The air had taken on the scent of pumpkin, sweet and autumnal like the air outside. When Rowena turned around, Helga stood in the doorway with a pie floating beside her shoulder. The pie released curls of white steam. Rowena's stomach grumbled.

"Just as I thought, you were so wrapped in your puzzles that you forgot to eat." Helga sent the pie flying over to a nearby shelf, then pulled out a pice of goldenrod fabric folded over into a square.

"Oh, Helga, you _didn't_."

"I didn't, actually." Helga smiled, lighting up her whole face. "I've been teaching the elves my recipes."

Rowena smiled weakly. The abandoned house elves. Of course Helga would find a place for them at the new school.

Helga bustled over to Rowena's worktable and with a flick of her wand sent the model to join the pie.

"Careful!" Rowena cried, more out of habit than anything else.

"Oh, I haven't done nearly as much damage to it as you have." Helga grinned at Rowena and any irritation Rowena felt melted away. Then Helga unfolded the gold fabric on the worktable and tapped it with her wand. Magic shimmered on the air and Rowena smelled roast fowl and something sweet, like plum.

"This is too much," Rowena began, but Helga shushed her.

The feast materialized on top of the cloth, glimmering in the candlelight: the roast fowl, of course, drizzled with plum sauce, plus soft wheat bread and an assortment of dried fruits.

"You have your tricks," Helga said, "and I have mine." She laughed. "Won't it be magnificent, for the food to just appear in front of the children? I can't wait to see their faces."

"It'll be lovely," Rowena said.

And then Helga slipped her arm around Rowena's waist, drawing her in close. Rowena stiffened at first, but then she relaxed, settling against the soft familiarity of Helen's body. Godric and Salazar weren't here; the wards Rowena had installed would chime if either of them came too close. She remembered the day she installed the wards, how it had felt like a betrayal: Godric had grown up with her, spending his summers at Ravenclaw Manor. He was almost her brother. But she doubted even the most fraternal feelings for her would hold, if he ever learned the nature of her relationship with Helga.

Rowena knew it wasn't natural for the lushness of Helga's body to press so closely against hers. And yet there was nothing unnatural about the way they fit together.

"I made enough for two," Helga said softly, her lips brushing against Rowena's ear. Rowena's skin prickled, and she moved her hand along the curve of Helga's spine, relishing the solidity of it.

Over on the table, the feast steamed, and the air smelled of currants and desire.

\--2--

Dinner felt as if it lasted for hours. The food was, as always, delicious, but Rowena had trouble concentrating on the taste of it because she so preoccupied with Helga, who sat close beside her at the table, their legs pressing together. Rowena could feel the heat of her through the layers of fabric. It made her dizzy.

"How do you like everything?" Helga asked.

"You know I love it," Rowena said.

Helga beamed.

When they finished eating, Helga cast a cleaning spell and her magic, shimmering with golden light, swept across the room, gathering up the dirty dishes and cleaning them in a soapy froth. The only sound was the occasional clatter of the dishes, and it created a rhythm from the magic, like a song.

Helga slipped her arm around Rowena's waist.

"I don't need to get back quite yet," she said softly.

Rowena's heart pounded. She knew what would come next, because it always happened this way, after dinner, under the cloak of night and magic. Six times so far, since they first met each other in the empty field where the castle now stood. Helga had been the first of the four to arrive that day, after Rowena. There was a crack and a charge on the air and then Helga stood in the cold, damp mist, her red hair falling in waves around her soft shoulders. Rowena had never seen anyone, male or female, that she found as beautiful as Helga Hufflepuff.

Now, here in the present, Helga took her hand. The cleaning spell sparked when their skin touched, and Helga laughed and said, "See?" She didn't have to say anything more; they'd already talked, after the first time, about what these desires might mean.

"I know," Rowena said. "The magic doesn't think it's wrong."

"Because it's not." Then Helga wrapped her arms around Rowena's shoulders and pulled her down into a kiss. If Rowena had doubts, they melted away with that kiss. The magic flared around them, all their energy flowing together.

Six times. Tonight would be the seventh. That was a good number, a magically significant number.

Helga led Rowena into the bedroom. She closed the door and illuminated her wand to combat the sudden darkness. Rowena did the same, and they both sent their wands to hover above the bed, casting twin pools of white light.

Helga undressed.

Rowena stood beside the door and watched, her breath caught in her throat, her whole body burning. One of Helga's pale shoulders appeared, glowing in the dim light. The other. Then her robes slid down around her waist and over the ample swell of her hips and then they pooled on the floor, forgotten. She let down her hair.

She looked like a painting of Aphrodite.

Rowena couldn't stand it any longer. She lunged forward and slipped her arms around Helga's waist and kissed her, trailing kisses down her throat and over her breasts, listening to the little gasps of pleasure emanating from deep inside Helga's chest. They were a display of opposites, Rowena and Helga: Helga soft, curved, sumptuous; Rowena sharp, angular. Helga light; Rowena dark. Helga earth; Rowena air.

When they came together, all those opposite collided. And there was strength in that collision. Magic

Godric and Salazar might find this wrong or unnatural or aberrant, but the magic didn't. The magic wouldn't lie.

Helga unravelled the cords tying Rowena's robes into place. The fabric slid against Rowena's skin. The air in the room was cool from the Scottish night but Helga's hands were warm. Helga drew Rowena down to the bed. Rowena straddled her at the waist, and her dark hair fell like a curtain around them. Helga smiled.

"I've thought of this all day," she said.

Rowena's thoughts buzzed. Helga's hands were tracing patterns on her back, featherlight. Rowena always trusted her intelligence above all else. But not right now, not in this.

She leaned down and kissed Helga on the mouth, on the breasts, on the stomach, on the thighs.

The night filled with magic.

\--3--

Rowena slept with her head pressed against Helga's heart. The soft feathery thumping was the first thing she dreamed of, a beat threading through her thoughts like the cleaning spell, like music.

Her dreams were strange that night, vivid and doused in color. She saw the castle covered in snow and the lake frozen over, but she didn't feel the cold, only a warmth like Helga's breath. And then the castle was surrounded by wildflowers and the air was drowsy with magic. Her thoughts chimed. Helga was there, naked, stretched out in the grass with flowers in her hair. They kissed and the dream-magic jolted through Rowena. Like lightning--

Now it was storming, the plants thrashing in the wild wind, and Helga's head was thrown back in ecstasy, and all of Rowena's body prickled, and something moved inside of her, something as small and as bright as a candle flame.

Everything important happens in dreams.

\--4--

Helga was gone when Rowena woke up, but Rowena expected that. Helga always prepared breakfast for the four friends, the four founders, a great meal to start a day of preparations for the school and its future students. This morning was no exception, no matter what happened last night.

Besides, it wouldn't do for the two of them to leave Rowena's cottage together. Rowena doubted quite seriously that Godric or Salazar had any idea of the magic between she and Helga--she wasn't sure they were even aware such magic _existed_ \--but she did not want to risk ostracization from wizarding society. Not for herself, not for Helga.

The morning was cold and the bed was warm from last night's magic. Rowena pulled the quilt around her shoulders and plucked the wand still hovering above her head. She cast a spell, self-devised, to bring a new robe straight to her, and she slid into the warm rough fabric. It almost hurt to leave the memories of last night behind.

She pulled down the quilt and smoothed the corners. She brushed out her long dark hair and braided it away from her face, the way she always wore it.

She walked into the workroom.

And froze.

Magic swirled through the air, streaks of golden light that smelled of cold wet stone and spicy autumn winds, like currants and arithmancy, like earth and air. Like Helga. Rowena slammed up against the wall and took deep breaths. The magic twisted up into a glittering cyclone, sweeping over the room. The model of the castle was in ruins. Dried fruit lay scattered across the floor.

 _But Helga cleared everything away_ \--

Rowena shoved her confusion aside and lifted her want. "Expecto Patronum!" she screamed, and a flash of white light erupted out of her want, like sheet lightning. Dark magic, that was the only explanation. Dark magic, come to destroy the school--

Salazar--what had Salazar done--

The blast of Patronus light faded away, but the wild, tumultuous magic still swirled across the room.

"Expecto _Patronum_!" Rowena shouted, flinging her wand with as much force as she could muster. This time, when the light poured out, it arrived in its material form, a scurrying animal shape--not an Eagle.

It should be an Eagle.

The air whooshed out of Rowena's body. She was almost too light-headed to stand. The animal scuttled into the center of the room and looked at her. A badger. It was a badger.

"Helga," Rowena whispered.

As soon as she spoke Helga's name the magic stopped, as if a window had been shut. The last remaining sparkles fell across the floor. Rowena took deep breaths. Intellectually, she understand what had happened. She had studied Fergus Comstock, the great wizard who invented the Patronus charm a hundred years ago. She knew all its intricacies and all its quirks.

She knew that when the animal changed, it meant one thing. Love.

It meant love.

The Patronus scampered up to her. Rowena trembled up against the wall, terrified and ecstatic in equal measure, an emotion like that maelstrom of magic that had just departed her workroom.

The Patronus jumped up on a nearby table. It was still looking at her with its eyes like stars.

"Helga?" she said weakly, feeling foolish.

But the Patronus made no move other than to stretch one paw through the gap between them. When its claws touched her belly Rowena gasped. She expected pain ( _why why would you expect pain_ ) and instead there was a shimmer of warmth, a tiny fluttering movement inside her belly.

No. Not her belly. Her womb.

"Oh," Rowena said, and everything fell into place. Three types of magic, swirling together. Helga's from dinner, Rowena's from the work on the model, and the magic of their joining. In the magical world, there are many ways to create a child. The usual way, that only worked between a witch and a wizard. And the other ways, the way that flooded magic with life. There was no way to plan for it, Rowena knew, and no spells to cast to prevent it.

Her wand dropped to the floor and the Patronus shimmered away. Rowena felt tousled and windblown. She touched her hand to her belly.

Magic pulsed inside her. Her magic, Helga's magic.

Rowena closed her eyes.

\--5--

Rowena waited at the edge of the forest beside the castle. Dark shadows crawled across the ground, oozing and transforming into different shapes: an eagle, a snake, a lion, a badger. It was a side effect of the magic from building the school, a bit of each of the four founders working its way into the landscape.

Rowena leaned up against a tree and watched the shadows cavort through the moonlight. Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought she saw the badger and the eagle intertwine together, and melt together, and then disperse.

She closed her eyes.

"Rowena?"

Helga's voice was a whisper through the darkness. Rowena's eyes fluttered open, and for a moment there was only darkness--but then Helga materialized, glowing like stars.

"What's the matter?" She glided forward, the curves of her body moving like liquid through the night. Rowena watched her, momentarily transfixed. Her hands dropped down to her belly. "Has something happened? You know I could have gone to your cottage--"

"I wanted to be outside." As soon as Rowena spoke, she knew it was true.

Helga stepped up to her. The shadow-shapes had mostly disappeared, bleeding off into the rest of the forest.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Helga asked, peering up at her.

"Yes." Rowena broke into a smile. "Yes, I'm fine."

"You seem awfully distracted today, especially when we were talking about the students--you didn't fight Godric when he started going on about bravery, and that's always--"

"We're going to have a baby," Rowena blurted.

Helga fell silent. She looked confused.

"We?" she said.

Rowena nodded. She couldn't stop touching her belly. "Our magic--last night--I'm not sure how it happened--"

Helga laughed. It was a twinkling sound, the sound of charms being cast in sunlight. Rowena stopped.

"You don't know how it happened?" Helga said. She grabbed Rowena by both hands and pulled her close. Rowena stumbled over the grass, her robes trailing behind her. Magic shimmered on the air. "You really don't? Perhaps all that studying hasn't done you much good." But she smiled kindly as she said it, and Rowena returned the smile, blushing.

"I know how it happened," she muttered. "I know how the magic can come together like that. But I--"

"You didn't think it would happen with me?"

"No, that's not it!" Rowena floundered, and Helga pulled her closer, until their bodies were touching. The life inside Rowena fluttered, infused with magic. "Oh," she said, and looked down.

"I can feel her too," Helga whispered. "A little bit. Here." She touched her own belly, and she looked so perfect like that, so _motherly_ , that Rowena wondered why she was the one who'd received the baby, and not Helga.

 _There's no logic in the way magic works_ , she thought, a phrase she'd learned somewhere, from one of the many scholars she'd studied under. She'd never actually believed it, of course. But now she could sense the truth in it, the joy of the illogical. It was like love. There was no logic in the way love worked, either.

"Oh Rowena," Helga said, her voice shattering the silence of the forest. "This is such wonderful news. It really is." She flung her arms around Rowena's neck and pulled her into a kiss. They stayed like that for a long time, melting into each other.

When they pulled away, the air rippled and vibrated.

"What are we going to name her?" Helga said.

Rowena smiled. "I had an idea."

"Did you?"

"It was inspired by you, when we were talking about the students today--"

"Ah, so you were paying attention!" Helga grinned.

Rowena smiled, bashful. "Yes, I was. You want to let in all magical children, so we can have a blend of all our strengths." Rowena nodded. "And this baby, she'll be a blend of our strengths, yours and mine."

Helga beamed. "You want to blend our names! That's old, old magic, Rowena."

"I know." Rowena brushed a piece of hair away from Helga's face, and she was so subsumed with love for her that her thoughts fragmented. Normally she wouldn't like that. But tonight it felt right. "That's why I wanted to be outside. Old magic always works best in the forest."

Helga laughed and pressed her head against Rowena's shoulder. Rowena stroked her hair. The night sparkled around them.

"A blend of our names," Helga said. "I give the first part."

"I give the second," Rowena said.

The magic vibrated, with a low deep whine that reverberated from deep within the forest.

"Helena," Rowena and Helga said at once, in tandem, and the little spark of life inside Rowena flared with magic, and Helga laughed and touched her stomach and said, "I felt that too. Little Helena."

"There's not much of her yet," Rowena said.

Helga sighed and pressed up against Rowena again. Old magic was always the simplest magic, and always the deepest. Rowena kissed the top of Helga's head, breathing in the scent of her hair, like sugar and plums. They stood there, intwined together, and Rowena thought about the future (even though she never went in much for Divinations). She thought about their daughter, she thought about the school. Two hundred years from now she and Helga would be gone from this world, but the forest would still be here. And maybe the children would come sneaking off in pairs, seeking dark secret places.

Maybe they would know about the magic that had happened here, the magic that had transformed into love.

 


End file.
